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interpretive [] delirium

Adam Mikos, publisher
Darlene Kryza, editor

November 1998,
Vol 1, No 1

Jump to: [poison] [next month] [McGlade] [Tow-Tilla] [Review]

Ann Marie McGlade
New Work/ Doin Shit

See McGade's [mother] page.

As you look at the work, the first poster you encounter, when you read them left to right, is of a dick. It's good to see her working with dicks, even if the nut sack is sliced open in a side view.

This imagery is what makes me excited about Ann Marie's new pieces (artistically speaking, thank you). They look very different from here extremely dense sculptural/installation pieces from the last few years. Most importantly to me is how she has reduced and refined the information, both physically and psychologically.

The new stuff is a series of posters (approximately 30 x 36"), photocopies, using basic black line drawings and illustrations, with a short paragraph, phrase, or quote beneath it.

Very minimal, very straight forward. The images and text have been pulled from the usual bizarre array of manuals, encyclopedias, cocktail napkins, and what-nots. The B/W, institutional look of these images makes them feel glib or too clever, but her image choices have a peculiar element to them which makes them far more intellectual than you first approach them.

Equally interesting is the direction she points you in with the corresponding phrases. It is this uncharacteristic twist that McCLade plays with, which is most visibly developed.

I feel some of the same issues, which she has worked on before, are present in these newest pieces, but there is certainly a change in her ability to both comprehend it and maneuver the viewer through them.

This new understanding of her audiences is a definite advancement from the last body of work. I love to see it, this accomplished feeling; her stepping forward and getting on with it. I'll keep my own interpretation of the subjects to myself until another time; maybe till a full series has been completed.

There is a private showing scheduled for this series upon its completion: We will keep you posted.

The following is taken from one of AMG's posters, which shows an illustration of a fifties style women's girdle and printed beneath is: An optimist is a girl who mistakes a bulge for a curve.


~nte~p~retiue dp~irliwn ~e~irt6 onlck uJkn man, Ir~cc~ed, L taAon ~ c rudden ~Pdl~JY/I1LG~L~. Andre Breton, LILZmawr ~ (1937)


A few months ago I picked up a story that I completely related to: The scenery has been adamized slightly, but the gist remains unspoiled.

At one time there was a city built along a river. The town piped all their water from this river. Somewhere along the line, there was a poison that started leaking into the river, gliding upstream from the city. As the people in the city continued to use and drink the river water, they started to go a little nutty, crazy. Meanwhile, the mayor of the city, (having a suspiciously fat bank account) only drank wine, never the river water.

As the people continued drinking the water, they began to think the mayor was acting strangely. Quickly, the situation became drastic and the people of the city were convinced the mayor had truly gone crazy. The mayor, bewildered, couldn't understand what was happening, feeling it was definitely the other way around.

Just as the city was preparing to go after the mayor, he thought he might know the answer and he began drinking the water. He gulped and gulped and gulped it down. Suddenly all the bizarre behaviors of the public started to seem less strange. He kept on drinking the water, and when the people finally caught up with him everything had returned to normal.

Similarly, I started watching Any McBeal last Monday. Now I'm riddled with relationship insecurity and rubberized versions of honesty.

--Adam Mikos

Next Month

Next month...
  • Private art collection interview
  • Review of new production at StrawDog Theater

Notes from Adam:

  • Call for writers... Let's get together, and keep this moving. As soon a I figure out what "it" is I'll let you know.
  • Things I Like (lately)...
    • Putting greens in Sportmart stores.
    • Barbie's digital camera
    • The show at Bodybuilder
    • Objective (for now)


This project is penciled in for the end of January to the middle of February.

Taking a lead from the Flo-tillas which happened in Chicago before, the Tow-tilla will be almost the same thing. Instead of everything needing to float, however, for this event everything will need to be on wheels or have some similar rolling motion.

After a long hiatus due to some shady dealings with major mishap at the last Flo-tilla, there was another effort scheduled for late spring or fall. Very cool to see.

During this last Flo-tilla, although the pieces were anchored and unable to go anywhere, they looked killer bobbing in the lagoon in Lincoln Park. I don't think the rowing classes had any idea what they were looking at (or smelling) as the organizers' metal outboard went by, towing things like a giant floating disco ball (Jay Gorgone), or Jno Cook's piece "Luke Dohner Chair of Flotation" which had a lawn chair fixed to the end of a long wooden boom sticking out over the water. A real loss, though not too many knew about it.

The Tow-tilla coming up is open to everybody interested. Size, color, subject, etc is up to you. Just build it and make it roll. There are a few things being organized to happen concurrently, so it will be a good time.

I am putting together some basic registration, and there will be a minimal fee to cover the cost of a parade permit. Keep your eye on http://spaces.org/org for the what and wheres. No political statement or angry message has yet been developed to explain why we will be doing this. No particular scheme either; I like that part.

Undisclosed Gallery Review

Where do most artists make their money other than at the practical jobs they do to survive? It appears that collectors (yes, a breathtaking announcement) and their generously proportioned disposable income are helping us out along with several Chicago corporations, both public and private.

Two weeks ago the Readers Digest managed to bail themselves out of serious financial hardship by selling over 80 million dollars worth of art from their collection -- mostly paintings.

There is a show open currently made up completely from the collections of various corporations. As with the Readers Digest one might argue over the reason behind the initial acquisition of these pieces (photos, paintings, assemblages, etc). It seems doubtful that their intentions were based in any sort of curatorial pursuit.

Instead, these selections seems to be based on the market value and expected increase of prices down the road. Yeah, real artistic integrity.

Having said that, when I walked into this undisclosed show, I felt a number of things, "This looks like as much of a trophy room as a deer hunting lodge", followed by, "This is not art, it is finance; Dollar signs; Texas tea...." Then, I looked at the work.

As you come down the stairs (hint hint) and into the gallery you see a Robert Frank photograph. Turn to your left, a picture of Andy Warhol, keep turning and who's there: Paschke. These and many other big names and big dogs, but in this context they seemed small and penned-in, bought to bark and definitely not allowed to bite.

The result were artists, most painfully Robert Frank with whom I have an immense respect, looking relatively flaccid in this arena. They may as well have been "Quality Reproductions." You could tell that it was a money show; so does it make a difference who owns certain pieces, or what their motivations are for buying it?

Of course we would all be happy as pie to sell work, to most any collection, but these pieces don't mean the same thing, especially in this context. I was diluted, confused, and annoyed at the clean white smarmyness of the atmosphere as I zipped up and walked out.

--Adam Mikos

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